Because I Care
by ClassyCalamity
Summary: Post 1x17. Elena reflects on the night and learns that there is always more than meets the eye.
1. And Then There's Him

**A/N:** This is my first fic! I apologize if the characters seem OOC. Concrit and reviews are loved!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Vampire Diaries. They still belong to their respective owners… despite how much I'd love to get my paws on them.

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_Dear Diary,_

It's been awhile since we last talked. I really only have myself to blame for that. Even when I had first started writing in you - vivid, numbingly painful memories of my past - I never went this long. It's weird to admit, but… things felt easier back then. "Back then" wasn't so long ago, though, was it?

I feel lost, more than ever. Just lost in overwhelming sadness, grief, frustration, confusion? Not only for myself, but also for others. My mind is whirling. I wish it could stop, at least just once, to ease the constant flow that I'm growing tired of.

No matter how many attempts I make to push those eyes, that anger and hatred I witnessed from my head, I can't. I feel as if they've burned themselves permanently into my vision. I can't remember feeling so afraid with him. Afraid _of_him. That wasn't Stefan. He told me it wasn't me, I didn't unleash that sudden change, but my gut tells me otherwise. If I hadn't given him my blood, well… I suppose a number of things wouldn't have happened, but a number of other things would've. A momentary lapse in character didn't mean anything, right? It was part of his nature, I just had to remind myself of that. But he's Stefan. He's always been Stefan. Soft eyes, sweet smile, threatening fangs… _**No.**_ He isn't a monster. Not even close.

But then there's _him._

I want so badly to hate him. Everything within me just wants to yell, scream, hit, cry… but something holds me back. Damn it. I feel sorry for him. Why, Elena? I seek and strip and search for the answer, but it never seems to come.

What makes Damon Salvatore so deserving?

Surely the bad things he has done (say… killing mercilessly and feeling no remorse) outweighs the good by a landslide, but tonight… and Atlanta… and the night at the tomb… There is more to him than the dangerous monster he was created to be. He has a strong barrier up and I am begging myself not to care about what's behind it, but I can't. Because I do. I care about Damon Salvatore.

Funny thing? I think he cares about me, too.

Anyway, the excitement of today, if you could call it that, has my limbs aching for sleep and my eyes heavy with evidence of it. I only hope my dreams are a bit more relaxing. A girl can only handle so much.

After all, I'm only human.

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**A/N:** Ok, I haven't written in forever. I'm still stumbling across where I want to go with this story or if I'm going to bother continuing in the first place, but reviews would be lovely regardless! I apologize again if Elena (or anyone in the future) seems OOC. Anywhooo, chapter 2? Yes? No? Bueller?


	2. No Words Were Spoken

**A/N:** Thank you to those of you that read this and, of course, those of you that reviewed! I know that the first chapter was very short, but I wasn't exactly sure where I wanted to go with it. I'm slowly getting back into this whole writing thing, so bear with me here. This next chapter doesn't have much interaction and kind of focuses on Elena, but I'm already pulling together the next chapter for you all, which I promise will have more than one character and plenty of dialogue. :P Anywho, let me know what you think of the story! Any constructive criticism would be great, as well as any suggestions/ideas you guys have. Also, I'm open to any ideas for future fics if you guys have something you've been dying to read. You can PM me or review! Thanks all! Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I, most unfortunately, do not own The Vampire Diaries, despite my greatest attempts at dreaming it up.

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Elena awoke, much to her misfortune, to warm strips of sunlight pouring through her half-veiled window, illuminating her room to a piercing bright yellow haze. The sun's intensity reflected off of everything, particularly unmasking the troubled expression etched into her features. However, mere seconds with the glow heating up her skin caused her to stir, troublesome look quickly replaced and forgotten by the admittance of a low groan. One of her eyes dared to crack open, squinting and stifling a yawn at the alarm clock on her bedside. Seven AM… on a Saturday. The weather had to be nice today, of all days? She squeezed her eyes back shut; another growl slipping as she instinctively reached for her pillow and pulled it over her head, immediately enveloping her in darkness. Her body stilled for a moment, hoping to give her back to sleep, but it was no use. She was awake, a blessing and a curse, for while there would be no return to the unsettling dreams (yet, anyway) that plagued her all night, the lack and need for sleep was going to be written across her features all day.

With one swift motion, Elena is untangled from her sheets, feet padding across the floor to the bathroom. One look in the mirror confirmed her reoccurring thoughts. Last night had really happened.

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_Elena felt weak, slightly numbed by the burning ache resonating from her wrist, yet the adrenaline coursing through her veins prohibited her from taking a moment's rest or crashing right then and there. She had to help him. She had to. She had to help _them_. Determination and strong will lingered in her eyes throughout it all. She would not let them fail. Better yet, she would not fail them._

_After agonizing minutes that seemingly carried on like hours, Stefan's face regained color. He removed himself from Elena, much to her relief, who then stumbled away from the scene about to unfold before her. Stefan would take it from here. And he did, beyond what he even needed to. The stake was repetitively driven in Frederick's lifeless form, a noise and image Elena willed away. However, not more than the next one. No, she wished she could've repressed the look Stefan gave her for the rest of her life.  
_

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_  
_An exasperated sigh rested at her lips, pressing the 'ignore' button on her phone for what was probably the eighth time today. Her eyes stayed downcast on her phone, rejecting the curious and sad look Aunt Jenna was giving her from across the kitchen table. The older woman looked as if she wanted to probe, but in consideration of the news of Vicki atop all else, she opted to let it be. For that, Elena was entirely grateful. She could take care of herself. Well, usually.

Elena truthfully couldn't explain her behavior. Stefan didn't deserve it. He hadn't intentionally done anything wrong. Deep down, she knew that. Yet… she resisted, her head whirling with indecision. With everything happened in her life right now, she needed a release, even from Stefan. She promised herself she'd explain everything to him, vowing to leave nothing out, but now was not the time. Now, she wanted to be alone.

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The sun that provided Elena with her rude awakening was now carefully hidden away behind some clouds, casting an evening appearance in Mystic Falls. Even with this change of weather, Elena found herself deep in the woods, sitting cross-legged before the double tombstones. Elena had long been over crying. The deep chocolate eyes that once drowned in tears now only captured sadness, that familiar spark in them that defined Elena's character temporarily dissipated.

No words were spoken. She sat like this as moment's passed, fingers tracing the engraved letters, the small gesture bringing an ounce of comfort to her. Regardless of recent news, these were her parents. They always would be. _She missed them so much…_

Just as a single tear threatened to escape, an unmistakable presence was felt behind her. She stiffened involuntarily, eyes shutting and waiting. Whoever it was, she didn't want to face them now. Nothing but continued silence greeted her. Elena let out an inaudible sigh (though she was sure whoever was behind her had not let it go unnoticed), before opening her eyes back up, keeping her gaze ahead. More silence. Finally growing tired of the charade, and feeling slightly irritated (the flush of red that filled her cheeks gave way to this), Elena rose and whipped around, bracing confrontation.

She wasn't sure who she had been expecting, but she was certain it hadn't been him.

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**A/N:** Eeek, I apologize for the cliffhanger there guys, but I promise I'm working on something now! Don't hate me too much. :P


	3. Relative to Tolerance

**A/N:** Wow, you guys are all wonderful! Thank you so, so much for those of you that put my story on Favorites or Story Alert. I'm so honored that you all are enjoying the story, despite how little I've given you so far. Special thanks go out to those of you that have been reviewing, as well. It's nice to hear feedback, so much appreciated. Like I mentioned last chapter, any suggestions would be great as well! I think I have a pretty solid idea where I'm going with the story, but that doesn't mean I'm not prone to changing my mind. Also, if any of you have any ideas that have been brewing in those lovely heads of yours, don't hesitate to let me know. I'm definitely up for writing some more stories for you all. Any particular pairings you're interested in? Plot lines? Crossovers? Feel free to PM or review!

**Disclaimer:** As always, I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_. This is not to say that I wouldn't mind owning them, however. If only life were that great.

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Elena wanted to be angry with him. This was private, couldn't he understand that? Didn't he get that she wanted some space? Of course not. He always had a knack for showing up at inopportune moments. Oddly enough, though, he also carried the tendency to show up at the right ones; now just happened to not be one. Yet here he was, standing mere feet away from her, his dark features showing no sign of that trademark smirk. Why had he come? Who knows. Damon was unpredictable. The majority of the time she spent with him involved her trying to peel back the invisible layers, to get a peek at that humanity he shielded well. She liked to believe she was making progress, but seeking out Damon's inner "goodness" was the furthest thing from her mind right now.

Part of her had silently hoped it would be Stefan behind her before she turned on her heel just seconds earlier, yet the other, most likely more _rational_ part of her wanted anything but that; confrontation and a deep conversation about last night's events would only make Elena feel more trapped. But… she wouldn't deny that it stung to see Damon approaching her after the distressing adventure rather than her boyfriend. She realized that she had been avoiding his calls and he was probably respecting her space, an admirable trait, but sometimes she wished he would fight past that. He was so careful with her all of the time. She loved him, she really did, but sometimes she wished it were easier. However, she assumed that the easy relationships were the ones that never lasted.

Her gaze zeroed in on the older Salvatore brother, a certain fire smoldering in her eyes, but the glint quickly disappeared just as soon as it had shown. She didn't have the energy to spit sass back and forth with Damon. She just wanted to figure out why he'd come so she could take care of it and send him back exactly the way he'd arrived. So, with defeat settling in amongst her delicate features, Elena let out a huff of air and dropped her shoulders, lack-luster eyes daring to meet Damon's.

"What? No proper greeting? Where's that spiteful dialogue I've grown so accustomed to?" Elena asked, a sense of humor almost coating her words, but the hint faded when the same thing wasn't reflected in her stare. She couldn't pretend things were okay; everyone would be able to see right through her facade.

Damon's eyes flickered with an emotion Elena couldn't quite recognize – pity, perhaps? – but instantly went back to their blank, yet surprisingly startling cerulean. She was about to speak again, to apologize (what for, exactly? The uncharacteristic behavior from Damon compelled her to it, she supposed) to him, before his voice broke the silence lingering in the air. "You act as if I came here to see you." His tone was on the brink of playfulness, a scoff emitting from his lips seconds after to add to the effect. "Maybe I'm just visiting old friends, relatives, _playmates_." He particularly accentuated the last word, giving Elena a taste of what she had apparently been missing.

Ah, that was more like the Damon she knew. However, she also knew it was a load of crap. She may not have known everything there was to know about him (quite frankly, the idea scared her), but she could tell when he was being serious or not. They, after all, had something; an understanding. He understood her, and vice versa.

"Oh, c'mon, really? Wouldn't you much prefer to surround yourself with live playmates? I figured they were a bit more your taste." Elena cringed at her choice of words, biting her tongue immediately after, knowing full well Damon wouldn't let it go unnoticed. Damon rarely let _anything_ go unnoticed.

"Touche, Elena. And tasty, they are!"

She let out an inadvertant groan, stomach rolling over and skin crawling at the thought. Not wanting the conversation to go down _that_ route, Elena made a quick diversion, regressing back to the question she had meant to ask him in the first place. "Why are you here, Damon?" She asked breathlessly, pushing herself up from her indian-style position in front of her parents' graves and dusting the dry dirt from her jeans. Her eyes traveled anywhere but to his, though she could feel the intensity of his stare lingering on her face. She was afraid what looking into his gaze might do. Her hand instinctively, almost absentmindedly as if without a conscious thought, hovered over her vervain necklace, a soothing reassurance that nobody would ever overpower her mind. Something told her she didn't have to fear Damon anymore, though. Something deep within her... possibly her heart? Hah, right, now _that_ was a silly idea. Her hand dropped back down to her side, stilling awkwardly and hoping he hadn't the time to notice her nervous reaction.

Damon seemed to ponder her question for a moment's notice, eyebrows furrowed and eyes darkened into somewhat of a concerned look. Elena would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued. However, she wasn't going to berate him for the information. He would either tell her or he wouldn't; he could always continue to play games with her, the classic move. Lately, though, she'd seen more honesty in him than usual. More... compliance, if she could call it that. She didn't know what to expect. Expect the unexpected, she supposed?

"I came to see how you were doing," he confessed lamely, his voice sounding almost bored. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, rocking on his heels as he continued to look at her, studying her, deciphering her.

"Well, I'm fine. No need to worry. You can go now."

A cold laugh vibrated from his lungs, his head shaking as he allowed his eyes to finally fall from her. "Ouch, Elena, so eager to rid of me?" There was a blur of movement and in a matter of seconds, Damon was no longer standing several feet away from her, but was right beside her fragile form, now seemingly more fragile than ever. Had last night _really_ taken such a toll on her? "And, you know, lying isn't healthy. I hear it makes you die younger... and _gives you wrinkles._ Ugh." He visibly shuddered at the thought.

Her eyes narrowed at him, that flicker of fury reappearing in her eyes before giving up again. She didn't have time for this, and she didn't want to make time for it either. "Damon..." she cooed, eyes downcast, staring pathetically at her shoes as if the ground captured her interest immensely. Ooh, so captivating! Dirt, dirt, and more dirt.

An uneasiness shifted amongst them, Damon carefully calculating every single move before he finally reached forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face to tuck it behind her ear carefully, fingertips idling at her cheek, gently stroking it before pulling them away. His eyes flashed another curious look that she couldn't quite translate. Breath hitching in her throat, surprise etched into the lines of her face, she stood, stunned. He made a quick recovery, acting as if this were the most natural thing in the world, before his smirk made its infamous return. "I figured you could use a friend. We are friends, aren't we, Elena? Or, at the very least, something relative to tolerance." His eyes danced, and for a instant Elena was enthralled by them until Damon seemed to be getting too much enjoyment out of it. She shook herself out of it, cheeks flushing lightly as she stepped back.

"Yeah, we're friends. Of course we're friends," she added in response to his statement, nodding with extra emphasis. As much as Elena wanted to be alone, to be left to her thoughts and her feelings and just... herself, she appreciated his company now. The sentiment was comforting. It was nice to know that someone was there for you, even when you were positive you didn't want them to be. It was nice to have someone looking out for you, despite your efforts to keep them away. It was a little strange that it was Damon.

Damon. Comfort. Nice. Appreciated.

...Weird.

He saw the bewilderment, swimming with perplexity, in her stare and let out another laugh, this one not quite as eery as the previous. He distanced himself from her even more, now leaning himself up against a tree. "Don't worry, Elena," he purred seductively, flashing her that devilish grin of his, eliciting an eyeroll from her. "I won't butter you up with niceness from here on out. I'm not Betty Crocker or anything," he teased, winking. "Anyway, I figure that if I do something nice for _you, _you can do something nice for _me._ Friendship is a two-way street. Kind of like a business."

Of course Damon wouldn't have done anything without some sort of penance. She should've known. He was, after all, very self-serving.

"Mmm, and I was beginning to fall for the act. What's the price for your so-called niceness?" She was almost hesitant to receive the answer, as if she even owed him anything. She hadn't asked him to come here today. It was done all on his own accord. She could leave now and not turn back, but her feet remained grounded. Curiosity always got the better of her.

"I need help," he paused, clearing his throat as his expression grew more somber. "With Stefan."

Dun, dun, dunnnnn! Another cliffhanger, sorry guys. This chapter was kind-of long and boring, but I'm working through what I imagine to be Elena's rough time and we'll eventually get to the fun parts! But, alas, I threw in a semi-sweet D/E moment for you all. A taste of what's to come, perhaps? Who knows! Tell me what you think! Tell me what you'd like to see! I'll try to work quickly on chapter 4. You guys are the beeeeessstttt.

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A/N:


	4. Bloodlust

**A/N:** I was on such a roll this morning that I couldn't help but update quickly! I feel like these chapters are progressing so _slowly_. However, this is the end of the graveyard scene and we can move onto to the fun stuff! As I mentioned before, any suggestions/ideas/concerns/what have you is always accepted and appreciated. Let me hear your thoughts, your reactions, etc. I love hearing from you guys. Alsoooo, what do you guys predict for the upcoming episode? I'm so excited, I can barely stand it. Feel free to PM! Anyway, here is another short chapter for you guys while I keep the gears turning.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_. The characters belong to their respective creators. I do _want_ to own a certain Damon Salvatore, but that's wishful thinking.

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Elena tensed at the mention of her boyfriend's name and the guilty, almost distressed look Damon was giving her, a wave of fear instantly crashing over her. They had just gotten him back yesterday, what could possibly have happened so soon?!

"What? What is it?" Her tone was frantic, her eyes mimicking the emotion as they skirted across Damon's face, covering every inch of it. A sudden pang of her own guilt smacked her, immediately regretting the fact that she'd put all of his incoming calls on the backburner. '_Stupid, stupid, __stupid__ Elena_,' she thought indignantly to herself. What if it had been an emergency? She hadn't even given him the chance.

"Relaaaax, Elena," Damon started, moving right back to her with his incredible vampire speed, hands settling on her shoulders. "There's no round two," his hands swung back down to his sides. "Yet."

Elena impulsively reached forward, shoving hard at Damon's chest, annoyance and rage saturating her. He didn't even budge. This seemed to only fuel her agitation more. "You're an ass, Damon. _What_ are you _talking_ about, then?" Her arms crossed over her chest defensively. Was it too late to retract her statement about them being friends? Right now she was having trouble teetering on tolerance. Damon only seemed to look amused.

God, he was so _irritating_.

Before Elena could resist, he had reached out and vice-gripped her arm, pulling it from its current position with ease. He didn't even have to look down to know what was already there, but he did anyway. A grimace came and went within a matter of seconds. "My, my, Elena," his eyes glinted with condescension, "What an interesting tattoo you have. Where'd you get it?" He challenged her, determined to not break the forceful gaze.

She recoiled considerably, attempting to snake her hand free with no success. For a moment, Damon could've sworn she looked afraid, but the look quickly flashed to shame, then just as quickly to guarantee. "He… he was dying…" Her voice trailed off, but she didn't break the eye contact. "I couldn't let him die."

He was quiet for a wavering moment, understanding for her actions sinking in. He got that, he knew from the moment he agreed to let her come along in the first place that she wouldn't let anything happen to him. Ah, young love. Damon freshly (and painfully) recalled a time when he was like that. The memory caused him to flinch, dropping her hand. That was another door he didn't want to reopen anytime soon. However, her heroic act didn't change things. He was grateful to her (though he would _never_ admit it), that was for certain, but they now had an entirely new problem on their hands.

A little problem called **Bloodlust**.

Sensing her rising anxiety, Damon remembered he still hadn't fully addressed the issue. Ugh, why did he care so much? Rather, why did he care at all? This whole recent reawakening of "feelings" was growing a little tiresome.

"Look," he hissed, now not only annoyed, but also impatient with himself. The sooner he told her the deal, the sooner he'd be out of her presence, and the _sooner_ he'd be back to normal, or at least where he was comfortable. "We're going to play a game, alright?"

Elena was about to interject, most likely to take a jab at Damon about his 'insensitivity' at a time like this, but he brought a finger to her lips before she had the chance, stopping her. "Ah, ah, ah," he reprimanded, smirking at her. "Interrupting is very rude, Elena. I'll have to come up with a punishment later." Leave it to Damon to make the word 'punishment' sound much dirtier than anything she'd ever heard, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

"Keep-away." He stated this simply, staring at her expectantly. The look returned to him was one of confusion. "Ughhh, am I the only one caught up to speed here?" He hastened his next few words before she could throw her two cents in, not wanting this encounter to be any longer. "You're the ball, alright? Stefan's the keep-away. You keep _away_ from him until _I_ say so, got it?"

Elena didn't seem to understand, was about to chalk it up to one of Damon's stupid tricks, but she followed Damon's hardened gaze to her wrist and her heart sunk, visible realization in her eyes.

"What did I do..?" Her voice was desperate, reaching. Damon's jaw tightened in response.

"Just don't break the rules. Now go home, Elena. You never know what kind of trouble you can run into out here."

In the next instant, he was gone, leaving a shell-shocked Elena staring out at the empty surroundings, her lips oddly tingling from the gentlest, most unexpected of touches and her head unable (or was it unwilling?) to wrap around everything that had just happened.


	5. Author's Note: Please Read!

Wow everyone, I completely suck! I'm sure you're all aware of how this works, but life totally got in the way and I haven't had the time nor energy to continue writing this story. However, with the start of the new season and Vampire Diaries morphing into one of my favorite things again, I simply cannot resist. Besides, things have slowed down considerably and I can manage to work more efficiently.

So… here's my question. Would you all be interested in reading more of this story? And by more of this story, I mean _more. _The chapters have been pretty short from this point forward, but they'll probably have more depth to them. Which… also means they might not come as frequently, but I'd do my best. The other option is to start up a new story for you, perhaps from the directions season 2 is taking us! I'm open to any ideas. Nothing is particularly in mind right now, but I'm sure my gears could get to turning if I sat down for awhile. If there is anything you've been dying to see written, though, I'd be glad to take a stab at it! Or… I could do both? A new story and continue? I don't know, guys! Give me your thoughts! I just know it's been awhile since this was last updated and I want to be sure interest is even still there. Thank you to those of you that read and reply to this. You're all wonderful.


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